Chapter XIII: From Southampton to Chawton

1808-1809

We do not doubt that the orange wine was duly made and the pleasure of unreserved conversation enjoyed during the remainder of the summer. Before the end of September, Cassandra had gone to Godmersham on what was to prove a long and a sad visit. She arrived just at the time of the birth of her sister-in-law's sixth son and eleventh child, John. For a time all went well with mother and child; but on October 8 Elizabeth Austen was suddenly seized with sickness, and died before the serious nature of her attack had been fully realised.[176] This sad event occurred, as the reader will see, between the second and third of the following letters. Edward Austen's two eldest boys, Edward and George, were now at Winchester School, but were taken away for a time on their mother's death. They went at first to the James Austens, at Steventon, no one appearing to think a journey to so distant a county as Kent feasible; and Jane, whose immediate impulse seems to have been to do what she could for her nephews, resigned them rather unwillingly for the time. On October 22 they went on to their grandmother and aunt at Southampton; and then their Aunt Jane was able to devote herself entirely to them, as her own Jane Bennet once did to her small cousins, and to show how her 'steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every way: teaching them, playing with them, and loving them'--words which she probably intended as a description of what Cassandra would have done in a similar position.

Castle Square: Saturday [October 1, 1808].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Your letter this morning was
quite unexpected, and it is well that it brings
such good news to counterbalance the
disappointment to me of losing my first sentence,
which I had arranged full of proper hopes about
your journey, intending to commit them to paper
to-day, and not looking for certainty till
to-morrow.

We are extremely glad to hear of the birth of the
child, and trust everything will proceed as well
as it begins. His mamma has our best wishes, and
he our second best for health and comfort--though
I suppose, unless he has our best too, we do
nothing for _her_. We are glad it was all over
before your arrival, and I am most happy to find
who the godmother is to be. My mother was some
time guessing the names.

About an hour and a half after your toils on
Wednesday ended, ours began. At seven o'clock Mrs.
Harrison, her two daughters and two visitors, with
Mr. Debary and his eldest sister, walked in.

A second pool of commerce, and all the longer by
the addition of the two girls, who during the
first had one corner of the table and spillikins
to themselves, was the ruin of us; it completed
the prosperity of Mr. Debary, however, for he won
them both.

Mr. Harrison came in late, and sat by the fire,
for which I envied him, as we had our usual luck
of having a very cold evening. It rained when our
company came, but was dry again before they left
us.

The Miss Ballards are said to be remarkably
well-informed; their manners are unaffected and
pleasing, but they do not talk quite freely enough
to be agreeable, nor can I discover any right they
had by taste or feeling to go their late tour.

We have got the second volume of _Espriella's
Letters_,[177] and I read it aloud by candlelight.
The man describes well, but is horribly
anti-English. He deserves to be the foreigner he
assumes.

The Marquis[178] has put off being cured for
another year; after waiting some weeks in vain for
the return of the vessel he had agreed for, he is
gone into Cornwall to order a vessel built for
himself by a famous man in that country, in which
he means to go abroad a twelvemonth hence.

With love to all,
Yours affectionately,
J. A.

Fanny Austen (afterwards Lady Knatchbull), Edward's eldest daughter, had nearly completed her sixteenth year. She was admirably adapted for the difficult position into which she was about to be thrown: that of companion to her father, mistress of a large household, and adviser to her younger brothers and sisters. She was sensible, even-tempered, affectionate, and conscientious. She did indeed prove 'almost another sister' to Jane, who, as Cassandra said afterwards, was perhaps better known to her than to any other human being, except Cassandra herself. Though this niece did not profess any special literary ability, her Aunt always valued her sound judgment on each new book: and in return she gave her, without fear of offending, advice[179] on the most delicate subjects. The short extracts from Fanny's diary, which her son, Lord Brabourne, gives us, show how constantly 'Aunt Jane' was the object of her thoughts.

Castle Square: Friday [October 7, 1808].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Your letter on Tuesday gave us
great pleasure, and we congratulate you all upon
Elizabeth's hitherto happy recovery; to-morrow, or
Sunday, I hope to hear of its advancing in the
same style. We are also very glad to know that you
are so well yourself, and pray you to continue so.

* * * * *

We found ourselves tricked into a thorough party
at Mrs. M.'s, a quadrille and a commerce table,
and music in the other room. There were two pools
at commerce, but I would not play more than one,
for the stake was three shillings, and I cannot
afford to lose that twice in an evening. The Miss
M.'s were as civil and as silly as usual.

* * * * *

_Saturday._--Thank you for your letter, which
found me at the breakfast table with my two
companions.

I am greatly pleased with your account of Fanny; I
found her in the summer just what you describe,
almost another sister; and could not have
supposed that a niece would ever have been so
much to me. She is quite after one's own heart;
give her my best love, and tell her that I always
think of her with pleasure.

* * * * *

Martha was an hour and a half in Winchester,
walking about with the three boys and at the
pastry-cook's. She thought Edward grown, and
speaks with the same admiration as before of his
manners; she saw in George a little likeness to
his uncle Henry.

[October 13.]

I have received your letter, and with most
melancholy anxiety was it expected, for the sad
news reached us last night, but without any
particulars. It came in a short letter to Martha
from her sister, begun at Steventon and finished
in Winchester.

We have felt--we do feel--for you all, as you will
not need to be told: for you, for Fanny, for
Henry, for Lady Bridges, and for dearest Edward,
whose loss and whose sufferings seem to make those
of every other person nothing. God be praised that
you can say what you do of him: that he has a
religious mind to bear him up, and a disposition
that will gradually lead him to comfort.

My dear, dear Fanny, I am so thankful that she has
you with her! You will be everything to her; you
will give her all the consolation that human aid
can give. May the Almighty sustain you all, and
keep you, my dearest Cassandra, well; but for the
present I dare say you are equal to everything.

You will know that the poor boys are at Steventon.
Perhaps it is best for them, as they will have
more means of exercise and amusement there than
they could have with us, but I own myself
disappointed by the arrangement. I should have
loved to have them with me at such a time. I
shall write to Edward by this post.

* * * * *

With what true sympathy our feelings are shared by
Martha you need not be told; she is the friend and
sister under every circumstance.

We need not enter into a panegyric on the
departed, but it is sweet to think of her great
worth, of her solid principles, of her true
devotion, her excellence in every relation of
life. It is also consolatory to reflect on the
shortness of the sufferings which led her from
this world to a better.

Farewell for the present, my dearest sister. Tell
Edward that we feel for him and pray for him.

Saturday night [October 15, 1808].

Your accounts make us as comfortable as we can
expect to be at such a time. Edward's loss is
terrible, and must be felt as such, and these are
too early days indeed to think of moderation in
grief, either in him or his afflicted daughter,
but soon we may hope that our dear Fanny's sense
of duty to that beloved father will rouse her to
exertion. For his sake, and as the most acceptable
proof of love to the spirit of her departed
mother, she will try to be tranquil and resigned.
Does she feel you to be a comfort to her, or is
she too much overpowered for anything but
solitude?

Your account of Lizzy is very interesting. Poor
child! One must hope the impression _will_ be
strong, and yet one's heart aches for a dejected
mind of eight years old.

* * * * *

We are anxious to be assured that Edward will not
attend the funeral, but when it comes to the point
I think he must feel it impossible.

* * * * *

I am glad you can say what you do of Mrs. Knight
and of Goodnestone in general; it is a great
relief to me to know that the shock did not make
any of them ill. But what a task was yours to
announce it! _Now_ I hope you are not overpowered
with letter-writing, as Henry[180] and John can
ease you of many of your correspondents.

* * * * *

Upon your letter to Dr. Goddard's[181] being
forwarded to them, Mary wrote to ask whether my
mother wished to have her grandsons sent to her.
We decided on their remaining where they were,
which I hope my brother will approve of. I am sure
he will do us the justice of believing that in
such a decision we sacrificed inclination to what
we thought best.

I shall write by the coach to-morrow to Mrs. J.
A., and to Edward, about their mourning, though
this day's post will probably bring directions to
them on that subject from yourselves. I shall
certainly make use of the opportunity of
addressing our nephew on the most serious of all
concerns, as I naturally did in my letter to him
before. The poor boys are, perhaps, more
comfortable at Steventon than they could be here,
but you will understand _my feelings_ with respect
to it.

To-morrow will be a dreadful day for you all. Mr.
Whitfield's[182] will be a severe duty. Glad shall
I be to hear that it is over.

That you are for ever in our thoughts you will not
doubt. I see your mournful party in my mind's eye
under every varying circumstance of the day; and
in the evening especially figure to myself its sad
gloom: the efforts to talk, the frequent summons
to melancholy orders and cares, and poor Edward,
restless in misery, going from one room to
another, and perhaps not seldom upstairs, to see
all that remains of his Elizabeth.

There must be a letter missing between October 15 and October 24, containing Jane's first comment on the offer of a cottage at Chawton, made by Edward Austen to his mother. In the midst of his grief--perhaps, in consequence of his loss--he wished to bind his mother and sisters more closely to himself. He gave them a choice between a house near Godmersham, and one at Chawton; but the mother and sisters were what Jane afterwards called 'Hampshire-born Austens,' and clung to their county. The offer was particularly opportune, for Mrs. Austen was already hesitating between Kent and Hampshire as a place of residence. The attractions of a home at Chawton became greater the more they were considered; and though it was held to be necessary to consult the Frank Austens, whom they would be leaving, no doubt was entertained as to their answer.

Castle Square: Monday [October 24, 1808].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Edward and George came to us
soon after seven on Saturday, very well, but very
cold, having by choice travelled on the outside,
and with no great coat but what Mr. Wise, the
coachman, good-naturedly spared them of his, as
they sat by his side. They were so much chilled
when they arrived, that I was afraid they must
have taken cold; but it does not seem at all the
case; I never saw them looking better.

_They behave extremely well_ in every respect,
showing quite as much feeling as one wishes to
see, and on every occasion speaking of their
father with the liveliest affection. His letter
was read over by each of them yesterday, and with
many tears; George sobbed aloud, Edward's tears do
not flow so easily; but as far as I can judge they
are both very properly impressed by what has
happened. Miss Lloyd, who is a more impartial
judge than I can be, is exceedingly pleased with
them.

George is almost a new acquaintance to me, and I
find him in a different way as _engaging as
Edward_.

We do not want amusement: bilbocatch,[183] at
which George is indefatigable, spillikins, paper
ships, riddles, conundrums, and cards, with
watching the flow and ebb of the river, and now
and then a stroll out, keep us well employed; and
we mean to avail ourselves of our kind papa's
consideration, by not returning to Winchester till
quite the evening of Wednesday.

* * * * *

The _St. Albans_, I find, sailed on the very day
of my letters reaching Yarmouth, so that we must
not expect an answer[184] at present; we scarcely
feel, however, to be in suspense, or only enough
to keep our plans to ourselves. We have been
obliged to explain them to our young visitors, in
consequence of Fanny's letter, but we have not yet
mentioned them to Steventon. We are all quite
familiarised to the idea ourselves; my mother only
wants Mrs. Seward to go out at Midsummer.

What sort of a kitchen garden is there? Mrs. J. A.
expresses her fear of our settling in Kent, and,
till this proposal was made, we began to look
forward to it here; my mother was actually talking
of a house at Wye. It will be best, however, as it
is.

* * * * *

I hope your sorrowing party were at church
yesterday, and have no longer _that_ to dread.
Martha was kept at home by a _cold, but I went
with my two nephews, and I saw Edward was much
affected by the sermon, which, indeed, I could
have supposed purposely addressed_ to the
afflicted, if the text had not naturally come in
the course of Dr. Mant's[185] observations on the
Litany: 'All that are in danger, necessity, or
tribulation,' was the subject of it. The weather
did not allow us afterwards to get farther than
the quay, where George was very happy as long as
we could stay, flying about from one side to the
other, and skipping on board a collier
immediately.

In the evening we had the Psalms and Lessons, and
a sermon at home, to which they were very
attentive; but you will not expect to hear that
they did not return to conundrums the moment it
_was over_.

While I write now, George is most industriously
making and naming paper ships, at which he
afterwards shoots with horse-chestnuts, brought
from Steventon on purpose; and Edward equally
intent over the _Lake of Killarney_, twisting
himself about in one of our great chairs.

* * * * *

_Tuesday._--The day began cheerfully, but it is
not likely to continue what it should, for them or
for us. _We had a little water party_ yesterday; I
and my two nephews went from the Itchen Ferry up
to Northam, where we landed, looked into the 74,
and walked home, and it was so much enjoyed that I
had intended to take them to Netley to-day; the
tide is just right for our going immediately after
moonshine,[186] but I am afraid there will be
rain; if we cannot get so far, however, we may
perhaps go round from the ferry to the quay.

I had not proposed doing more than cross the
Itchen yesterday, but it proved so pleasant, and
so much to the satisfaction of all, that when we
reached the middle of the stream we agreed to be
rowed up the river; both the boys rowed great part
of the way, and their questions and remarks, as
well as their enjoyment, were very amusing;
George's enquiries were endless, and his eagerness
in everything reminds me often _of his Uncle
Henry_.

Our evening was equally agreeable in its way: I
introduced _speculation_,[187] and it was so much
approved that we hardly knew how to leave off.

* * * * *

Of Chawton I think I can have nothing more to say,
but that everything you say about it in the letter
now before me will, I am sure, as soon as I am
able to read it to her, make my mother consider
the plan with more and more pleasure.

Sunday [November 21, 1808].

Your letter, my dear Cassandra, obliges me to
write immediately, that you may have the earliest
notice of Frank's intending, if possible, to go to
Godmersham exactly at the time now fixed for your
visit to Goodnestone.

* * * * *

Your news of Edward Bridges[188] was _quite_ news,
for I have had no letter from Wrotham. I wish him
happy with all my heart, and hope his choice may
turn out according to his own expectations, and
beyond those of his family; and I dare say it
will. Marriage is a great improver, and in a
similar situation Harriet may be as amiable as
Eleanor. As to money, that will come, you may be
sure, because they cannot do without it. When you
see him again, pray give him our congratulations
and best wishes. This match will certainly set
John and Lucy going.

There are six bedchambers at Chawton; Henry wrote
to my mother the other day, and luckily mentioned
the number, which is just what we wanted to be
assured of. He speaks also of garrets for store
places, one of which she immediately planned
fitting up for Edward's man servant; and now
perhaps it must be for our own; for she is already
quite reconciled to our keeping one. The
difficulty of doing without one had been thought
of before. His name shall be Robert, if you
please.

* * * * *

Yes, the Stoneleigh business is concluded, but it
was not till yesterday that my mother was
regularly informed of it, though the news had
reached us on Monday evening by way of Steventon.

* * * * *

Our brother[189] we may perhaps see in the course
of a few days, and we mean to take the opportunity
of his help to go one night to the play. Martha
ought to see the inside of the theatre once while
she lives in Southampton, and I think she will
hardly wish to take a second view.

* * * * *

How could you have a wet day on Thursday? With us
it was a prince of days, the most delightful we
have had for weeks; soft, bright, with a brisk
wind from the south-west; everybody was out and
talking of spring, and Martha and I did not know
how to turn back. On Friday evening we had some
very blowing weather--from 6 to 9, I think we
never heard it worse, even here. And one night we
had so much rain that it forced its way again into
the store closet, and though the evil was
comparatively slight and the mischief nothing, I
had some employment the next day in drying
parcels, &c. I have now moved still more out of
the way.

* * * * *

Adieu! remember me affectionately to everybody,
and believe me,

Ever yours,
J. A.

The home at Chawton was now looked upon as a certainty; though none of its future inhabitants inspected it until February 1809, when Cassandra visited it on her way back from Godmersham.

It was some years since they had lived in the country, and their future home was likely to be very quiet; so, as Jane recovered her spirits, she determined to crowd into her remaining months at Southampton as much society and amusement as possible. She went to two of the Southampton assemblies--her last recorded appearances as an active ball-goer.

Castle Square: Friday [December 9, 1808].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Soon after I had closed my
last letter to you we were visited by Mrs. Dickens
and her sister-in-law, Mrs. Bertie, the wife of a
lately-made Admiral. Mrs. F. A., I believe, was
their first object, but they put up with us very
kindly, and Mrs. D. finding in Miss Lloyd a friend
of Mrs. Dundas, had another motive for the
acquaintance. She seems a really agreeable
woman--that is, her manners are gentle, and she
knows a great many of our connections in West
Kent. Mrs. Bertie lives in the Polygon, and was
out when we returned her visit, which are _her_
two virtues.

A larger circle of acquaintance, and an increase
of amusement, is quite in character with our
approaching removal. Yes, I mean to go to as many
balls as possible, that I may have a good bargain.
Everybody is very much concerned at our going
away, and everybody is acquainted with Chawton,
and speaks of it as a remarkably pretty village,
and everybody knows the house we describe, but
nobody fixes on the right.

I am very much obliged to Mrs. Knight for such a
proof of the interest she takes in me, and she may
depend upon it that I _will_ marry Mr.
Papillon,[190] whatever may be his reluctance or
my own. I owe her much more than such a trifling
sacrifice.

Our ball was rather more amusing than I expected.
Martha liked it very much, and I did not gape till
the last quarter of an hour. It was past nine
before we were sent for, and not twelve when we
returned. The room was tolerably full, and there

# were, perhaps, thirty couple of dancers. The
melancholy part was, to see so many dozen young
women standing by without partners, and each of
them with two ugly naked shoulders.

It was the same room in which we danced fifteen
years ago. I thought it all over, and in spite of
the shame of being so much older, felt with
thankfulness that I was quite as happy now as
then. We paid an additional shilling for our tea,
which we took as we chose in an adjoining and very
comfortable room.

There were only four dances, and it went to my
heart that the Miss Lances (one of them, too,
named Emma) should have partners only for two. You
will not expect to hear that _I_ was asked to
dance, but I was--by the gentleman whom we met
_that Sunday_ with Captain D'Auvergne. We have
always kept up a bowing acquaintance since, and,
being pleased with his black eyes, I spoke to him
at the ball, which brought on me this civility;
but I do not know his name, and he seems so little
at home in the English language, that I believe
his black eyes may be the best of him. Captain
D'Auvergne has got a ship.

* * * * *

Having now cleared away my smaller articles of
news, I come to a communication of some weight: no
less than that my uncle and aunt[191] are going to
allow James L100 a year. We hear of it through
Steventon. Mary sent us the other day an extract
from my aunt's letter on the subject, in which the
donation is made with the greatest kindness, and
intended as a compensation for his loss in the
conscientious refusal of Hampstead living; L100 a
year being all that he had at the time called its
worth, as I find it was always intended at
Steventon to divide the real income with
Kintbury.[192]

* * * * *

I am glad you are to have Henry with you again;
with him and the boys you cannot but have a
cheerful, and at times even a merry, Christmas.

* * * * *

We want to be settled at Chawton in time for Henry
to come to us for some shooting in October, at
least, or a little earlier, and Edward may visit
us after taking his boys back to Winchester.
Suppose we name the 4th of September. Will not
that do?

* * * * *

Distribute the affectionate love of a heart not so
tired as the right hand belonging to it.

Tuesday [December 27, 1808].

. . . Lady Sondes' match[193] surprises, but does
not offend me; had her first marriage been of
affection, or had there been a grown-up single
daughter, I should not have forgiven her; but I
consider everybody as having a right to marry
_once_ in their lives for love, if they can, and
provided she will now leave off having bad
headaches and being pathetic, I can allow her, I
can _wish_ her, to be happy.

Do not imagine that your picture of your
_tete-a-tete_ with Sir B.[194] makes any change in
our expectations here; he could not be really
reading, though he held the newspaper in his hand;
he was making up his mind to the deed, and the
manner of it. I think you will have a letter from
him soon.

* * * * *

We have now pretty well ascertained James's income
to be eleven hundred pounds, curate paid, which
makes us very happy--the ascertainment as well as
the income.

* * * * *

_Wednesday._--I must write to Charles next week.
You may guess in what extravagant terms of praise
Earle Harwood speaks of him. He is looked up to by
everybody in all America.

* * * * *

Yes, yes, we _will_ have a pianoforte, as good a
one as can be got for thirty guineas, and I will
practise country dances, that we may have some
amusement for our nephews and nieces, when we have
the pleasure of their company.

Tuesday [January 10, 1809].

I am not surprised, my dear Cassandra, that you
did not find my last letter very full of matter,
and I wish this may not have the same deficiency;
but we are doing nothing ourselves to write about,
and I am therefore quite dependent upon the
communications of our friends, or my own wits.

* * * * *

The _St. Albans_ perhaps may soon be off to help
bring home what may remain by this time of our
poor army,[195] whose state seems dreadfully
critical. The Regency seems to have been heard of
only here; my most political correspondents make
no mention of it. Unlucky that I should have
wasted so much reflection on the subject.

I can now answer your question to my mother more
at large, and likewise more at small--with equal
perspicuity and minuteness; for the very day of
our leaving Southampton is fixed; and if the
knowledge is of no _use_ to Edward, I am sure it
will give him pleasure. Easter Monday, April 3,
is the day; we are to sleep that night at Alton,
and be with our friends at Bookham the next, if
they are then at home; there we remain till the
following Monday, and on Tuesday, April 11, hope
to be at Godmersham.

* * * * *

William will be quite recovered, I trust, by the
time you receive this. What a comfort his
cross-stitch must have been! Pray tell him that I
should like to see his work very much. I hope our
answers this morning have given satisfaction; we
had great pleasure in Uncle Deedes' packet; and
pray let Marianne know, in private, that I think
she is quite right to work a rug for Uncle John's
coffee urn, and that I am sure it must give great
pleasure to herself now, and to him when he
receives it.

The preference of Brag over Speculation does not
greatly surprise me, I believe, because I feel the
same myself; but it mortifies me deeply, because
Speculation was under my patronage; and, after
all, what is there so delightful in a pair royal
of Braggers? It is but three nines or three
knaves, or a mixture of them. When one comes to
reason upon it, it cannot stand its ground against
Speculation--of which I hope Edward is now
convinced. Give my love to him if he is.

* * * * *

We are now in _Margiana_,[196] and like it very
well indeed. We are just going to set off for
Northumberland to be shut up in Widdrington Tower,
where there must be two or three sets of victims
already immured under a very fine villain.

* * * * *

_Wednesday._--Charles's rug will be finished
to-day, and sent to-morrow to Frank, to be
consigned by him to Mr. Turner's care; and I am
going to send _Marmion_ out with it--very generous
in me, I think.

Have you nothing to say of your little namesake?
We join in love and many happy returns.

Yours affectionately,
J. AUSTEN.

The Manydown ball was a smaller thing than I
expected, but it seems to have made Anna very
happy. At _her_ age it would not have done for
_me_.

Tuesday [January 17, 1809].

I hope you have had no more illness among you, and
that William will be soon as well as ever. His
working a footstool for Chawton is a most
agreeable surprise to me, and I am sure his
grandmamma will value it very much as a proof of
his affection and industry, but we shall never
have the heart to put our feet upon it. I believe
I must work a muslin cover in satin stitch to keep
it from the dirt. I long to know what his colours
are. I guess greens and purples.

* * * * *

To set against your new novel, of which nobody
ever heard before, and perhaps never may again, we
have got _Ida of Athens_,[197] by Miss Owenson,
which must be very clever, because it was written,
as the authoress says, in three months. We have
only read the preface yet, but her _Irish
Girl_[198] does not make me expect much. If the
warmth of her language could affect the body it
might be worth reading in this weather.

Adieu! I must leave off to stir the fire and call
on Miss Murden.

_Evening._--I have done them both, the first very
often. We found our friend as comfortable as she
can ever allow herself to be in cold weather.
There is a very neat parlour behind the shop for
her to sit in, not very light indeed, being _a la_
Southampton, the middle of three deep, but very
lively from the frequent sound of the pestle and
mortar.

Tuesday [January 24, 1809].

I had the happiness yesterday of a letter from
Charles, but I shall say as little about it as
possible, because I know _that_ excruciating Henry
will have had a letter likewise, to make all my
intelligence valueless. It was written at Bermuda
on the 7th and 10th of December. All well, and
Fanny[199] still only in expectation of being
otherwise. He had taken a small prize in his late
cruise--a French schooner, laden with sugar; but
bad weather parted them, and she had not yet been
heard of. His cruise ended December 1st. My
September letter was the latest he had received.

* * * * *

You rejoice me by what you say of Fanny.[200] I
hope she will not turn good-for-nothing this ever
so long. We thought of and talked of her yesterday
with sincere affection, and wished her a long
enjoyment of all the happiness to which she seems
born. While she gives happiness to those about her
she is pretty sure of her own share.

I am gratified by her having pleasure in what I
write, but I wish the knowledge of my being
exposed to her discerning criticism may not hurt
my style, by inducing too great a solicitude. I
begin already to weigh my words and sentences more
than I did, and am looking about for a sentiment,
an illustration, or a metaphor in every corner of
the room. Could my ideas flow as fast as the rain
in the store closet it would be charming.

We have been in two or three dreadful states
within the last week, from the melting of the
snow, &c., and the contest between us and the
closet has now ended in our defeat. I have been
obliged to move almost everything out of it, and
leave it to splash itself as it likes.

You have by no means raised my curiosity after
Caleb.[201] My disinclination for it before was
affected, but now it is real. I do not like the
evangelicals. Of course I shall be delighted when
I read it, like other people, but till I do I
dislike it.

* * * * *

Your silence on the subject of our ball makes me
suppose your curiosity too great for words. We
were very well entertained, and could have stayed
longer but for the arrival of my list shoes to
convey me home, and I did not like to keep them
waiting in the cold. The room was tolerably full,
and the ball opened by Miss Glyn. The Miss Lances
had partners, Captain D'Auvergne's friend appeared
in regimentals, Caroline Maitland had an officer
to flirt with, and Mr. John Harrison was deputed
by Captain Smith, being himself absent, to ask me
to dance. Everything went well, you see,
especially after we had tucked Mrs. Lance's
neckerchief in behind and fastened it with a pin.

* * * * *

Adieu, sweet You. This is grievous news from
Spain. It is well that Dr. Moore was spared the
knowledge of such a son's death.

Monday [January 30].

I am not at all ashamed about the name of the
novel, having been guilty of no insult towards
your handwriting; the diphthong I always saw, but
knowing how fond you were of adding a vowel
wherever you could, I attributed it to that alone,
and the knowledge of the truth does the book no
service; the only merit it could have was in the
name of Caleb, which has an honest, unpretending
sound, but in Coelebs there is pedantry and
affectation. Is it written only to classical
scholars?

I am sorry to find that Sir J. Moore has a mother
living, but though a very heroic son he might not
be a very necessary one to her happiness. Deacon
Morrell may be more to Mrs. Morrell.

I wish Sir John had united something of the
Christian with the hero in his death. Thank
heaven! we have had no one to care for
particularly among the troops--no one, in fact,
nearer to us than Sir John himself.

* * * * *

The store closet, I hope, will never do so again,
for much of the evil is proved to have proceeded
from the gutter being choked up, and we have had
it cleared. We had reason to rejoice in the
child's absence at the time of the thaw, for the
nursery was not habitable. We hear of similar
disasters from almost everybody.

Yours very affectionately,
J. AUSTEN.
Miss Austen, Edward Austen's, Esq.
Godmersham Park, Faversham, Kent.

This letter brings the Southampton series to an end. The party were not to take up their residence at Chawton till the beginning of September; but they left Southampton in April, and we may presume that they carried out the programme mentioned in Jane's letter of January 10, and went by way of Alton to Bookham, and on to Godmersham.

In the whole series of letters written from Southampton, there is not a single allusion to Jane's being engaged upon any novel; and it has been inferred--probably correctly--that her pen was idle during these years. The fact that she had already written three novels, but had not succeeded in publishing a single one, can hardly have encouraged her to write more. But it seems almost certain that, a few days before she left Southampton, she made an effort to secure the publication of the novel which we know as _Northanger Abbey_, by the publisher to whom she had sold it as far back as 1803.

The circumstances are somewhat involved, but appear to be as follows: Among the letters preserved by Cassandra, is one said not to be in Jane's hand, addressed to Messrs. Crosbie [_sic_] & Co.,[202] of which these are the contents:--

GENTLEMEN,--In the spring of the year 1803 a MS.
novel in two vols., entitled _Susan_, was sold to
you by a gentleman of the name of Seymour, and the
purchase money L10 rec^{d.} at the same time. Six
years have since passed, and this work, of which I
am myself the Authoress, has never to the best of
my knowledge appeared in print, tho' an early
publication was stipulated for at the time of
sale. I can only account for such an extraordinary
circumstance by supposing the MS. by some
carelessness to have been lost, and if that was
the case am willing to supply you with another
copy, if you are disposed to avail yourselves of
it, and will engage for no farther delay when it
comes into your hands. It will not be in my power
from particular circumstances to command this copy
before the month of August, but then if you accept
my proposal you may depend on receiving it. Be so
good as to send me a line in answer as soon as
possible as my stay in this place will not exceed
a few days. Should no notice be taken of this
address, I shall feel myself at liberty to secure
the publication of my work by applying elsewhere.

I am, Gentlemen, etc., etc.,
M. A. D.

Direct to Mrs. Ashton Dennis,
Post Office, Southampton
April 5, 1809.

With this letter was preserved the following reply:--

MADAM,--We have to acknowledge the receipt of your
letter of the 5th inst. It is true that at the
time mentioned we purchased of Mr. Seymour a MS.
novel entitled _Susan_, and paid him for it the
sum of L10, for which we have his stamped receipt,
as a full consideration, but there was not any
time stipulated for its publication, neither are
we bound to publish it. Should you or anyone else
[publish it] we shall take proceedings to stop the
sale. The MS. shall be yours for the same as we
paid for it.

For CROSBY & CO.
I am yours, etc.
RICHARD CROSBY.

From the fact that this letter was carefully preserved among Jane's correspondence, from the almost exact coincidence of the dates at which the writer was to leave Southampton, &c., and from the fact that a Mr. Seymour was Henry Austen's man of business, there can be no reasonable doubt that the letter refers to one of Jane Austen's works. It need cause no surprise that she should have written under an assumed name, or that she should have got some one else to write for her in view of the secrecy which she long maintained regarding the authorship of her novels. If we assume, then, that the letter concerns one of Jane Austen's novels--which novel is it? At first sight it might naturally seem to be the story called _Lady Susan_, which was published in the second edition of the _Memoir_; but there are two objections to this: one, that so far from making two volumes, _Lady Susan_ could hardly have made more than one very thin volume; secondly, that _Lady Susan_ is generally looked upon as an early and immature production; and Jane's judgment should have been too good to allow her to desire the publication of an inferior work at a time when she had already completed, in one form or another, three such novels as _Sense and Sensibility_, _Pride and Prejudice_, and _Northanger Abbey_. If, therefore, it was not _Lady Susan_--What was it? We cannot doubt that it was the novel we now know as _Northanger Abbey_. When that book was prepared for the press in 1816, it contained the following 'advertisement' or prefatory note:--

This little work was finished in the year 1803,
and intended for immediate publication. It was
disposed of to a bookseller,[203] it was even
advertised, and why the business proceeded no
further, the author has never been able to learn.

So far, this accords closely enough with the history of the MS. _Susan_ as related in the letter to Messrs. Crosby. For other details we must go to the _Memoir_,[204] where we read:--

It [_Northanger Abbey_] was sold in 1803 to a
publisher in Bath for ten pounds; but it found so
little favour in his eyes that he chose to abide
by his first loss rather than risk further expense
by publishing such a work. . . . But when four novels
of steadily increasing success had given the
writer some confidence in herself, she wished to
recover the copyright of this early work. One of
her brothers undertook the negotiation. He found
the purchaser very willing to receive back his
money and to resign all claim to the
copyright.[205]

This, too, accords closely enough with the history of the MS. _Susan_, with the exception of one expression--namely, 'publisher in Bath'; but probably the writer of the _Memoir_ here made a slip, acting on the very natural inference that a book in the main written about Bath, by a writer at that time living in Bath, would naturally have been offered to a publisher in that town.

We are, indeed, confronted by two alternatives: either that Jane Austen, in the year 1803, sold two MSS. for the sum of ten pounds each--one named _Susan_, to a London publisher, which has disappeared altogether, unless it is the same as the sketch _Lady Susan_ (which, as we have seen, is improbable), and the other (_Northanger Abbey_) to a Bath publisher; or that the publisher was really a London and not a Bath publisher, and that the original Christian name of Catherine Morland was Susan.[206]

FOOTNOTES:

[176] _Brabourne_, vol. ii. p. 1.

[177] Southey's _Letters from England, by Don Manuel Alvarez Espriella_ (London, 1807); a lively account of this country, written in the guise of letters assigned to a fictitious Spanish traveller.

[178] Lord Lansdowne, who put off being cured too long: his death occurred about the time when he had proposed to go abroad.

[179] See Chapter XIX.

[180] Henry Austen and John Bridges.

[181] William Stanley Goddard, D.D., Head Master of Winchester, 1796-1809.

[182] The Rector of Godmersham.

[183] Anglicised form of French word for cup-and-ball--_bilboquet_.

[184] As to the move to Chawton.

[185] Richard Mant, D.D., Rector of All Saints, Southampton, and father of Bishop Mant.

[186] She probably wrote _n_oonshine, a somewhat incorrect way of spelling _nuncheon_ (luncheon). See _Sense and Sensibility_, c. xliv.

[187] See p. 225.

[188] His approaching marriage to Harriet Foote.

[189] Frank.

[190] The Rector of Chawton, who was a bachelor.

[191] Mr. and Mrs. Leigh Perrot.

[192] In 1806, the small living of Hampstead Marshall became vacant by the death of old Mr. Fowle; and Lord Craven, the patron, looking round for an 'honest man' who would hold the living for his nominee, offered it to James Austen. He, however, felt scruples, grounded on the wording of the bond of resignation, and declined the preferment.

[193] Her second marriage to General H. T. Montresor.

[194] A joking suggestion that Sir Brook Bridges was about to propose to Cassandra.

[195] Sir John Moore's heroic twelve days' retreat to Corunna was now in progress, and the battle was fought there on January 16. It is mentioned again in the next two letters. The news on this occasion seems to have come very quickly. The _St. Albans_ (under the command of Francis Austen) was at Spithead, and there took charge of the disembarkation of the remains of Sir John Moore's forces (_Sailor Brothers_, p. 203).

[196] _Margiana; or Widdrington Tower_, anon. 5 vols. 1808. For a description of this romance see a reply by M. H. Dodds in _Notes and Queries_, 11 S. vii. pp. 233-4.

[197] _Women, or Ida of Athens_, by Sydney Owenson (afterwards Lady Morgan), published in 1809.

[198] _The Wild Irish Girl_, published in 1806.

[199] Mrs. Charles Austen, whose daughter Cassandra was born on December 22, 1808.

[200] Eldest daughter of Jane's brother Edward.

[201] This proved to be Hannah More's _Coelebs in Search of a Wife_, published in 1808. See next letter.

[202] Messrs. Crosby & Co. of Stationers' Hall Court, London.

[203] Mr. Austin Dobson, in his introduction to _Northanger Abbey_ (Macmillan, 1897), makes the mistake of saying that the 'advertisement' of the first edition of 1818 tells us that the MS. was disposed of to 'a Bath bookseller.'

[204] _Memoir_, p. 129.

[205] This implies that (if _Susan_ and _Northanger Abbey_ were the same) no arrangement was concluded in 1809. Indeed, it does not appear that the author contemplated a re-purchase at that time; and the publisher was unwilling to relinquish his rights on any other terms.

[206] Later writers have not even been content to accept the 'publisher in Bath,' but have found a name and habitation for him. Mr. Peach, in his _Historic Houses in Bath_, published in 1883 (p. 150 _note_), says: 'The publisher (who purchased _Northanger Abbey_), we believe, was Bull.' Mr. Oscar Fay Adams, writing in 1891 (_Story of Jane Austen's Life_, p. 93), becomes more definite in his statement that 'nothing of hers (Jane Austen's) had yet been published; for although Bull, a publisher in Old Bond Street [sc. in Bath], had purchased in 1802 [_sic_] the manuscript of _Northanger Abbey_ for the sum of ten pounds, it was lying untouched--and possibly unread--among his papers, at the epoch of her leaving Bath.'

It is true that Mr. Dobson, unable to find the authority for Bull's name, is a little more guarded, when he amusingly writes, in 1897:--

'Even at this distance of time, the genuine devotee of Jane Austen must be conscious of a futile but irresistible desire to "feel the bumps" of that Boeotian bookseller of Bath, who, having bought the manuscript of _Northanger Abbey_ for the base price of ten pounds, refrained from putting it before the world. . . . Only two suppositions are possible: one, that Mr. Bull of the Circulating Library at Bath (if Mr. Bull it were) was constitutionally insensible to the charms of that master-spell which Mrs. Slipslop calls "ironing"; the other, that he was an impenitent and irreclaimable adherent of the author of _The Mysteries of Udolpho_.'

Mr. Meehan, in his _Famous Houses of Bath and District_ (1901), is the most circumstantial of all, writing on p. 197:--

'Her novel _Northanger Abbey_, which is full of Bath, was finished in 1798, and in 1803 she sold the manuscript for ten pounds to Lewis Bull, a bookseller in the "Lower Walks" (now "Terrace Walk"). Bull had in 1785 succeeded James Leake, and he in turn was succeeded by John Upham. Bull was the founder of the well-known library in Bond Street, London--for many years known as Bull's Library.'